Hunted
by MasterMightyena
Summary: A fourteen year old girl with the power of mental domination needs to find somewhere safe. Long summary inside.


Hunted

A Sanctuary Fanfic

Summary

When Ekaterina 'Delta' Smetski was seven, she was taken from her home in Russia by a clandestine organization known as the 'Foundation'. Because of her special abilities and young age, it was thought she could easily be molded into something of use. But her intuitive instincts made it hard for her trust to be gained, she began to rebel once she was old enough to understand what it was they wanted from her. Now fourteen, she managed to escape from the Foundation during a freak accident and managed to make it into the city. When she is cornered by Foundation Agents, she is rescued by Magnus and the rest of the Sanctuary team, who take her in after learning of their situation. But Delta has a lifetime of reservations to get over. Along with the fact that her ability is slowly killing her as well as affecting her sanity, she must try to keep secret the fact that she may be the one who can bring the entire world to it's knees.

**Rated T for violence, graphic medical and fight scenes, Delta's slightly disturbed mind, and other insanity that may come in later.**

Chapter 1: In Which The Hunt Begins

It was April 19th 2010 about six thirty in the afternoon. And a teenaged girl, and a middle aged man were walking down the streets of New York City, the girl's army issued boots making dull thuds against the pavement. The man beside her, had a serene smile plastered on his face, and his hands clasped behind his back. In his blue suit and black loafers, you wouldn't guess that he was anything more than a business man who had just earned a promotion. The girl was wearing a black sweater, and an oversized pair of jeans that looked like they had been used to wipe down a mud hole. She hated it, but you took what was given to you in such situations.

She was scared, and uncomfortably aware of the fact she had been tailed for the last six blocks.

And her head hurt.

"Can we get some lunch Miss Delta?" The man asked, looking at her the way a child asking permission might.

Delta looked over her shoulder, and the cobalt blue car was still there, crawling slowly in the curbside lane. Bastards had found her at a bad time, and probably knew it. "Not just yet Mr. Sedka." She said.

It was terrible to think they would probably be caught tonight. Two days being free, what was that compared to almost eight years? Nothing. Not even one percent.

She snatched another look behind, and the car was still there, still pacing, about a block behind. She thought there were two in the front, maybe one in the back.

_What do I do?_

She had no answer. She was tired, and scared, and it was hard to think through the haze that had settled over her mind. Her first instinct was to sit down on the dirty pavement and cry out in frustration and hate and fear.

Around her, people moved on obliviously. It was a funny kind of blindness people developed in the city. You minded your own business, and expected others to do the same. Never mind the fact that a teenaged girl was running for her life. It wasn't your problem.

Delta sighed helplessly, eyes searching for any method of escape. Alley ways were off limits for obvious reasons, and buses were too slow to be of much use.

_Keep walking._

She kept walking. Listening to the _thum, thum, thum, _of her boots on the pavement.

The biggest problem was no money. She thought. Besides the car, that was her biggest problem. Here in the city, people with money disappeared. Dropped into the pavement, never to be seen again. She knew, because it had been like that when she had lived in Russia. Though she had been young, she remembered that bad things had often gone away after her parents handed the money over to whoever was making the bad things happen.

_Bad things Ekaterina, bad things will happen if you don't hurry up._

She quickened her pace. The man followed suit. "Head hurting?" He asked.

"A little bit." She said, barely keeping the annoyance out of her voice.

"The brain is a muscle." Mr. Sedka sang. "The brain is a muscle." He grinned foolishly. The girl could have punched him.

Maybe she had a little push left. Not even a push, a small tap, to help them out. It had been less than a week ago she had last used it. Used it on the very man that now followed her like a stupid dog that couldn't think for itself. Pre-suicidal, he had spoken to one of his friends about how nice swimming in the Hudson would be. Swimming forever, never getting out again. So, not out of any particular fondness for him, she had pushed him, or rather his thoughts, away from such morbid inclinations. Now, almost bitterly, she hoped it had been worth it. Because for saving his life, not only had it put hers at risk, but left her feeling responsible for the obsolete man.

Just a little push. That was all she needed.

_Oh Ekat. _Her mind whispered tauntingly. _You'll pay for it later though, won't you? You'll be out for at least a week afterwards, maybe two weeks. Like a car that needs a jumpstart. Or, maybe really dead, an aneurism or a stroke. Sixty percent. Remember _Delta_?_

She hated that name. _Delta._ She remembered the man who gave her that name too. A balding, rat like man everyone called Gyro. He was the physician, and he had greeted her the same way every time. _"Hey there Delta!" _He would say, _"How's it going? My my, aren't you getting tall." _When she had asked him why he called her that, he had said it was because she was always the fourth person he saw when he came to work. It wasn't particularly clever in her opinion, but it had stuck.

She was coming up the street, a light just ahead. Cars were rolling past, and pedestrians were cluttered up at a bottleneck, waiting for the red 'walk' sign to give the go ahead. A sudden sick wave, a vague feeling that this was were they would be taken, rolled through Delta's mind, making her shiver.

As the light came closer, the feeling increased to undoubted sureness. They would probably try to take her alive, but if there was any trouble…well, they had probably been briefed on what to do then. But they would try to avoid trouble.

_Unless they don't even want me alive anymore. A knife in the back, a nylon rope, or even something more esoteric. Some kind of exotic poison in a clear syringe, or even a sniper. You see officer? This child seems to have been assaulted. Case closed._

She damned her common sense. And mentally prepared herself to deal with the aftermath of the newly chosen course of action.

She reached the corner where the pedestrians had gathered, and the light blinked infinitely. Delta looked back to see that the car had stopped, two middle aged men were getting out of the curbside seats, their hands hidden in their jackets.

_Better run for it._

She began elbowing her way through the crowd, searching for a means of escape. "Run!" She called over her shoulder. Then into the crowd, "Taxi!"

Mr. Sedka stood there stupidly for a second, then with an animalistic sound of fear, hurried after her.

The men from the car dropped all pretenses and ran.

"Hey watch it!" someone said angrily.

"Look out kid!"

"Watch where you're going!"

"Excuse me." She muttered desperately, "Excuse me. Sorry. I need to get through. Taxi!"

A yellow taxi pulled leisurely to the curb. "Need a ride Miss?" The cabbie asked lazily, thumbing his cap back into place.

"Yeah. Thanks Mister." She pulled open the door, and grabbing Mr. Sedka's hand, yanked him in. Closing the door and pushing down the lock tab.

"Where to?" The man asked.

"Um," The girl wracked her brain. "Queens. Take us to Queens."

The men were closer, "Police!" One of them called. "Police! Stop right there!"

The cabbie swung his head towards the voice, and the girl put a hand on his shoulder. "They must be after the guy in the red jacket." She said, and pushed. Knowing that she was scraping the bottom of the barrel, she winced as sharp pain materialized in her frontal lobe before scuttling like a spider into the back of her head.

"Oh," The man said around the soggy toothpick hanging out of his mouth, "okay then." He pulled away from the curb just as one of the men reached it. Delta watched him as they drove away, wishing she had the presence of mind to flip him off. The man looked after them, and reached up to his ear and spoke. Then, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the blur of people.

"The guy in the jacket." The cabbie said vaguely, his voice barely registering. "What'd he do? Rob a convenience store or something?"

"I couldn't tell ya mister." The girl said tiredly. The pain was growing from spider to tarantula, and she knew from experience that too much more effort would make it would grow until her head was full of clattering shards of metal. Making soft sound loud, and loud sounds like jet engines. At that point thinking would be almost impossible, so she needed to plan ahead. This cab for instance was a lucky break, and she needed to get the most out of it for the least amount of effort. Little taps, that's what she had energy left for. Mr. Sedka sat and folded his hands in his lap, humming happily. His orders were complete, and no new ones had been issued.

Delta settled into the seat, bracing herself against the pain in her head. "I changed my mind." She said. "We need to go to the airport in Albany. Can you take us?"

The cabby glanced disapprovingly at her in the rearview mirror. "Albany? That's like… ninety miles in the opposite direction. I can't take a fare out to Albany."

_Of course you can't. _The girl thought bitterly, as she tapped his mind.

_Thud, Thud, Thud._

Her head was pounding now, and small involuntary tears leaked from the corner of her left eye. How it spread so quickly was beyond her comprehension.

"Of course you can." Delta said, her aching mind trying to piece together an acceptable story. "I've got a three hundred dollars that says it's no problem."

"Three hundred dollars?" The man asked, clearly disbelieving. "Three hundred for a trip to Albany?"

"You got it."

The man grunted, and squinted suspiciously. "Let's see it."

She had hoped he wasn't going to ask that. But she tapped again. "Okay."

The teen reached into her pocket and pulled out three one dollar bills. Leaning forward to hand them to the cabby. "Three hundred." And she pushed a little harder. The tarantula became a dull meat cleaver imbedded in her skull and she fell back against the seat. "I'm going to sleep." She muttered to Sedka, who nodded.

The man examined them, and whistled in surprise. Then he looked in the mirror again. "I guess you got yourself a deal kid." He peered harder at the now sleeping child. "You alright?"

"Migraine." Sedka said suddenly and matter-of-factly. "She's got a headache because the brain is a muscle."

The man nodded sympathetically. "Been there. Hurts like hell, I tell you." He looked again at the girl, her face was pale.

While the man placidly wondered about what his wife would say when she saw the three hundred dollars, He sucked at his toothpick. Nice kid. Sick, but nice.

"Hey man." He said to the middle aged man. "You taking care of her?" Sedka nodded perfunctorily.

"It's the other way around." He said.

The cabby nodded as if that made sense, and fell silent. Sedka was grateful, because now he was free to think about shoes. About Nike and Gucci and Adidas. About the strange forest of shoe trees that grew in his home. Miss Delta would wake up after awhile, then everything would be alright.

It was always alright.

As Jeffrey Sedka drifted off into what was left of his mind, three men sat at a large mahogany desk covered in pictures of her, in an office building in the north side of the city to discuss her future. The building was surrounded with beautiful lush lawns, a small manmade lake glistening just nine feet away from the entrance.

None of the men were looking at the view though. They were busy.

One of the men was Mr. Vernon .R. Novinger. He was thirty years old, shrewd, and calculative. At the moment, he was rattling off the pros of scrubbing the teenager from existence.

"She's a dead end." He said in his broken-stone voice. "Or soon will be. Everyone agreed that that little 'push' of hers is going to tip her over sooner rather than later. But on the off chance that it doesn't, we need to help it along. God forgive me for saying this, as I have two daughters of my own, but I will be a much happier man once I see a toe tag hanging from her foot."

His competition was a man named Benjamin .G. Rudner. Like Vernon, he was shrewd, though far more excitable than Mr. Novinger. But he had something else, a kind of dark enthusiasm. He was a man who was happy in his work

"I think you're showing a paralyzing lack of understanding Mr. Novinger." He said. "This is a child who has managed to escape our facility, not just the main terminal either, the actual property. That means one of two things, she is either very smart, or our employees are very stupid." Here he shifted, his voice growing high with excitement. "It's my opinion that we need her more than we don't. This is a child with the ability to control other people. Imagine what that means for the one who controls _her_."

"Bullshit." Novinger snorted. "In case you haven't noticed, she's not too keen on the being controlled part. Besides, what about Sedka? The man's a turnip now. Can't even think without her nearby."

Rudner glared at him. "Jeffery Sedka could burn water making tea. He was a fluke, she pushed him hard. Pushed his brain right out of his head. What do you think Sir?" He asked turning his attention to the elderly man behind the desk.

Fredrick Jeremiah Puckridge was sixty three years of age and had been running the Foundation for more than thirty years. He was tough, hard, and remembered clearly a time when he didn't have to be so. His salt and pepper hair was the only sign of his age, as his body was as lean and bull-strong as it always had been.

He was sitting in his wingback chair, smoking a Camel cigarette, later he would chew his intern for not bringing him a Marlboro, but for now it would have to do. He didn't really want to be there, but he supposed it had to be him.

The two younger men watched as he took another drag and released it from between two smoke cured lips. They were waiting for him to speak up.

"Do you know what I think?" He asked after a moment more.

"No sir." The men replied in immediate unison. "What do you think?"

"I think two things." Puckridge said, leaning back and putting his shined shoes on the desk. "One, I think you're both idiots." This earned him a look of shock and silent disdain. And for a moment he enjoyed watching them squirm in silence. "Two." He said finally. "Is that neither of you are right about our situation." Another look, this one just of shock. He smirked before going on.

"This girl is going to die. Whether by our hands or her brain, she will die. But for now, I prefer to keep her alive if possible. That's the plan, alive. But not because of what Mr. Rudner said. I agree with Mr. Novinger on the fact that she's dangerous. But we take whatever bones god throws at us. You are both dismissed."

He turned his back on them, and listened as they got up awkwardly and gathered the papers they had brought. In his mind he saw them walk to the door and leave. Maybe smiling goodbye at the pretty secretary just outside. But they didn't leave immediately.

"Sir?" Novinger asked.

"Yes?"

"If you think she's dangerous…why want her alive?"

Puckridge smiled dreamily, turned back to the table and picked up the most recent picture of the teenager. In the picture she was reading a book. Her eyes were down, and wisps of her auburn hair had fallen into her face.

"She's very young and beautiful." said. "But inside that head of hers is a power that belongs only to god and herself. I want to know what goes on in that marvelous little mind Mr. Novinger. I want to know what she's got, why it was her that got it, and why she's afraid of it."

"She's afraid?" Novinger asked, his gravely voice somewhat hushed.

Puckridge laughed, still looking at the picture. "Of course she is. She's hesitant, scared like any child would be. And between you and me, I think that's the only reason she's alive today."

"I don't understand."

"Don't you? It's the ones who aren't afraid that die first."

*****End*****

**Well, there it is, tell me what you think. Opinions, constructive criticism, tips… All is accepted. This is a non-canon story, so the plot doesn't really come in. But I imagine it after season 2, so lets go with that. I based Delta's powers off the Pushers in the movie 'Push', but I figured it would be more realistic if it had an effect on her too, not just the people she pushed. This story is kind of me experimenting with a different writing style, so forgive me if you think it's a bit extreme. Reviews for reviews people. Review my story, I'll review yours when I get the chance.**


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